


interlude

by St_Machine



Category: Florence + the Machine
Genre: F/F, Reflection, Self-analysis, a heartfelt thing, no like really heartfelt and loving, past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:48:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23161990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/St_Machine/pseuds/St_Machine
Summary: "you became a safe place for me, it's almost as if you rented a room in my brain and i hid you there, hung your nameplate on the door and would sneak in during times of feeling restless."-in other words, a prolific florence's reflection on her perception of love and Isa.
Relationships: Isabella Summers/Florence Welch
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	interlude

**Author's Note:**

> look, i wrote all my works in the profile at the age of sixteen. now, in a month, i will turn twenty-one. i'm overwhelmed by life and my sudden return to fanfiction but it was once my safe place. here i can reflect on my life and florece still helps me a lot with it. i hope you'll like it. i hope this fandom is not dead. 
> 
> p.s. i'm a technological dummy so thank you to everyone who left comments like five years ago i fucking love you just kinda troubled when it comes to replying cause i don't know how.

i'm used to silence, especially if it is the quiet of my house. 

imagine, darling, there was a time when i couldn't stand the stillness of it at all. i would claw at the walls, trying to crawl out of my own skin, i'd give three tequila shots to stop hearing the cogs and wheels of my mind that screeched like an idle, stagnant mechanism. 

i was not accustomed to myself in silence, so i would go on and still take in those three tequila shots, although it was - of course - more than that. when you get trashed out of inability to put up with yourself, your thoughts always drift to someone else. 

i always thought of you in those moments. you became a safe place for me, it's almost as if you rented a room in my brain and i hid you there, hung your nameplate on the door and would sneak in during times of feeling restless. Isabella - have i told you that your name sounds so calm it always lulls me to sleep? i think it started so long ago, when i passed out dead drunk in our shloft with you. remember - you hugged me from behind? as i stared up from the floor at the patch of the sky peeking through the window, i felt your warmth around me so sharply that i nearly jolted from the fear. you know, i couldn't perceive warmth as a good sign back then, more like a call from an abyss.

because every time i noticed how warm someone was, i would start falling for them. and after i hit the bottom of love, i would get bruised and completely, utterly obsessed. eyes, hair, lips, hands, fingertips, neckline, collarbones and hips, voice though the phone, voice echoing in the room, drunk mumbling inches from my ear - i classified these sounds, picked and saved them in my pockets till they overflowed. 

my dear, you were that hopeless case. i could not stop it and would murder everyone who would try to do it. it was so strange to fall for you not at first sight or after first conversation. countless small and deep talks, a lot of parties and studio sessions had to go by before i realized that you took up so much of my mind that nobody had the chance to squeeze in there. you, music and the grain of everyday life - that's all what i was in the days of my youth. 

oh you could reply that i still went out with people, slept with people, got heartbroken over others. and it is true. but it all happened against the background of you. no matter what happened, you were there to hold my hand and i would come back to your room in my brain and sit there, encompassed by my memories of you. 

i remember those years when i was yet to have a separate house. that period was flooded with touring, self-destruction and desire to die like virginia. i almost did, you know. but could not push myself over the edge, so i never tried again. you would be so angry with me, i'm sure. 

i remember when we first made out and you single-handedly sent me into another dimension. well, maybe the effect was partially reached due to me being - of course - trashed. but the thing is - when we made it sober again, the impression did not pale. being sober turned me into a more self-conscious, desperate, vulnerable being, wanting and ashamed of that want. we made love during the tours. not like, often, but frequently enough to get addicted. turned out addictions were not remotely romantic - during pauses i felt empty and jumped into you afterwards with unhealthy wish to dissolve under you. weird to think about it now. 

i got so comfortable with never being alone that forgot i was still an individual. somehow i was taught that romantic love is supreme and that friendships are infinitely lower, as if they made up a sort of hirearchy. i believed that friendship with the romantic partner after the end of a relationship was hilarious. that's why, when you sit me down after the tour and told me that you loved me and it would never change, but you didn't feel in love with me anymore, i decided i was over.

the feeling that you were enamoured with me gave me a kind of validation, the proof that i'm worth something. for me, being in love was rather a positive characteristic of an object of love. if a person was infatuated with someone, that meant the object of infatuation was on a whole other level compared to anyone. and how could i not enjoy the feeling of being necessary, beautiful and unique enough to allure somebody like you? when you told me that you loved me but not romantically, it sounded empty and confusingly.

how could you love me and not be in love with me?

and then men came along. and my own house appeared on the horizon like a promise that now it would be a milestone, after which i would be guaranteed happiness. but when i started dating again, i didn't feel anything. when i entered my new house, it was just a building. everything rolled in the way with a "just" before it, which shrinked the world to the size of the needle's eye.

you, Isabella still was a safe place. when you visited me in my home, being as kind, sensitive and open as ever, i could not fathom how to perceive you, how to learn this type of love. without obsession and lust, it felt bland and tasteless, boring. but you were nothing like that, you still were all kinds of amazing. 

so, it was me.

with you, i learned to feel loved by somebody, not used. from you, i learned to let go and strive for different kinds of love, which were far broader than what i had ever envisioned. you showed me how to put closures when they're needed and move on instead of dropping the dead body in the water and run away. 

and in that way, i learned to listen and exist in silence.

for all that and so much more, i love you. your name still lulls me and huddles in your room in my brain.

it's just that i tuly love you. i will always do.


End file.
